Through the Mirror's Passage
by Amani Blowney
Summary: This is the version of the Broadway Musical, Phantom of the Opera, through Christine Daaé's point of view.
1. Default Chapter

This is a version of the Phantom of the Opera story, in Christine Daaé's point of view. It is based off of the play, though, so there will be nothing in the book included. Parts from the play will be in this story, but only those parts that include singing from one of their plays such as Don Juan Truimphant, Il Muto, and so on. Please be gental with your reviews. This is my first Fanfic writting. :)   
  
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(NOTE: The prologue will not be in this, because it does not involve Christine.)   
  
Music flew around me as the voices of the male chorus called in the arrival of Hannibal. The chorus voices sang out, that Hannibal had arrived with his army, after a voyage to save Cathage from the Roman invation under Scipio.   
  
Signora Carlotta stepped up to the center of the crowd of singers and dancers to truimph in her lead rolë, as Elissa, the Queen of Carthage. Her voice broke the sudden hush of the male chorus' singing, as she sang out, "This trophy from our saviours, from the enslaving forces of Rome!"   
  
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The girls chorus started up after Carlotta's ending note. Their melodic voices sounded like the choir of a group of small children singing charols for Christmas time. Everyone chimmed in after the male chorus: "Hear the drums - Hannibal comes!"   
  
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At this, Signor Piangi, playing the rolë of Hannibal, comes onto the stage, followed by his small group of warriors. He pulled out his mighty dagger, and sang, "Sad to return to find the land we love threatened once more by Roma's far-reaching grasp."   
  
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Reyer, the director of the production, interrupted Piangi, correcting his mistake.   
  
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"Signor...if you please: 'Rome.' We say 'Rome, ' not 'Roma." Signor blushed from his mistake. "Si, si...Rome, not Roma. It is very hard for me." He practised to himself for a few seconds, and then signalled to Reyer that he was ready to restart.   
  
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Meg and I looked at each other, and gave a quiet laugh. Signor Piangi had a heavey accent and had trouble pronouncing most words in every opera production that he starred in. He did have a wonderful voice, however, and I always admirred that most above everything else. I longed to have the voice I once had; the voice that I had when my father was alive. suddenly, my thoughts were broke off.   
  
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"This way gentelmen, this way. Rehearsals, as you see, are underway, for the new production of Chalumeau's 'Hannibal'" Lefévre said, as he lead two men in suits across the stage. Meg looked at me, and without a word, and we both exchanged a look of confusion.   
  
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Lefévre, noticing the uncertin looks of the cast members, explained. "Ladies and Gentalmen. Some of you may already, perhaps, have met Mr. André nd Mr. Firmin..." Both men gave a slight bow, when Reyer broke in.   
  
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"I'm sorry Mr. Lefévre, but we are reherrsing. If you wouldn't mind waiting for one moment, please?" Lefévre blushed in his embarrisment, saying, "I apologize! Please, go on, go on..."   
  
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The reherrsal went on as the three managers, former and future, went on talking about the production, and the opera house. I turned to Meg, and asked, "Who are these men?" She silenty shook her head, as Madame Giry, the dance instructor, as well as Meg's mother, stamped her cane on the ground. "Dancers! Reherrsal shall begin now!"   
  
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All of the dancers, including Meg and I, scattered to the side of the stage. We began to dance melodically to the music playing on the side. Meg's steps were perfectly in rythem to the music. Her gracefully, and beautiful steps flowed perfectly with the other dancers, and the music. Each step she took was perfect. Anyone could admit, that she was a perfect dancer.   
  
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I, on the other hand, was not anything like Meg. Yes, it was true, I knew steps, and I could learn combinations, but I was nowhere near the level of little Meg. Out of the corner of my eye, I could see Lefévre, and the two men watching us dance.   
  
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"Who is that girl?" Mr. André asked, looking in Meg's direction. "Oh yes, that is Meg Giry, Madame Giry's daughter. She is a wonderful dancer! She will do wonders for you two gentlemen in the future!" Lefévre answered.   
  
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I heard the two going on about Meg, and became distracted in my own thoughts. Someday, I will be a great singer again. Just like I was when I was a child. If only I could... "Christine Daaé! Consentrate!" Madame Giry broke my thoughts. Meg looked over sadly at me, and asked, "Christine...is everything alright?" The attention of the new managers were brought to me, with Madame Giry's remark.   
  
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"Daaé? Strange name..." Firmin remarked.   
  
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"It is Swedish," answered Lefévre   
  
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Hearing this, André asked, "Is she in any relation to the violinist?"   
  
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Lefévre answered, "I beleive she is his daughter. I do believe he died not to long ago. Poor dear - always has her head stuck in the clouds, I'm afraid." I shuddered at this statement. Do they suspect anything? Do they know?   
  
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The chorus went on, singing their notes perfectly matched. At this, Piangi was lifted on to the back of a life-like elephant. He tried to hold his balance the best he could, but slightly fell forward. He caught himself, however, and held his dagger up once more. The chorus started one last time, and finally, the scene's reherrsal was finished.   
  
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Lefévre clapped his hands for attention, as the fake elephant was lead off the stage. Once again, Lefévre clapped his hands, and began to announce something important.   
  
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"Attention please! Thank you ladies; gentlemen. For weeks now, there have been rumors going around about my leaving the theatre. I would like to tell you all now, that those rumors are true. I will be retireing from the business. So I am now pleased to introduce your two new managers, Mr. André and Mr. Firmin."   
  
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Carlotta, being the woman she is, stepped forward to introduce herself to the new managers.   
  
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"I am Carlotta Giudicelli, leading saprano for five season's now."   
  
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"Of course!" Firmin answered. "We have been waiting to have the pleasure, Signora."   
  
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"Signora, I heard that 'Elissa' has a fine aria in Act Three of this production...may I ask that you oblige us with a rendition of it, please?" Mr. André asked.   
  
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"I shall only do two bars...I shouldn't spoil all of it..." Carlotta answered. "Mistro?"   
  
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The music began, and I watched as she poised herself in the bright lights. She cleared her throat, and began...   
  
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"Think of me, Think of my fondly when we've said goodbye. Remember me, once in a while - please promise me you'll try. When we find, that, once again you long, to take your heart..."   
  
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Before Carlotta could finish the next line of the song, Scene Five's backdrop crashed to the ground. Panic came over the stage floor, as a murmer went across the entire cast. Some remarked, "It's him! It's him!" Others said, "He is with us, it's the ghost..." but next to me, Meg looked up terrified, and said, "He's here: the Phantom of the Opera!"   
  
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I did not beleive in the Phantom of the Opera. Although strange happenings did occur in the Opéra Populaire Opera House, they could all easily be explained.   
  
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Lefévre rushed to Carlotta, who stood steaming on the side now. "Signora! Are you alright? Buquet! Where is Buquet!?" Almost instantly, Joseph Buquet was lead onto the stage, with a terrified look in his eyes.   
  
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"Buquet! What is heaven's sake is going on up there?" Lefévre demanded. Buquet struggled for breath. "Please Monsieur, don't look at me. As God's my witness, I was not at my post. If there was anyone there; well then, it must have been a ghost!" Meg, once again, looked up, and said, "He's here! the Phantom of the Opera!"   
  
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André, hearing Meg's remark, became very upset. Apparently, he too, did not belive these ghost stories around the opera house. "Good heavens! Will you show a little courtesy? Signora! these things do happen...I apologize."   
  
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Carlotta looked up, with a devilish gleam in her eye. She looked as if she was going to blow, but she held in her anger quite well. " Si! These things do happen...Well until you stop these things happening, this thing, will not happen!" Turning away from the new managment, and to Piangi, she said, "Ubaldo! Andiamo!"   
  
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At that, Carlotta and Piangi left the Opera House.   
  
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Lefévre, with a terrified look, still in his face, from the thought that the Opera Ghost could still be in their presents, finally spoke up. "I don't think there is anything more I will need to assist you two gentlemen in. Good luck! I'm off to Frankfort!"   
  
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André, trying to cheer up the cast, said, "Carlotta will be back." Madame Giry stepped in. "You think so, Messiuers? Oh, and I have a message, sir. It's from the Opera Ghost. He only welcomes you to his opera house, and asks you to continue to leave Box 5 empty for his use, and reminds you that his salary is due."   
  
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Firmin chimmed in, "God in heaven! You are all obsessed, aren't you?" André, almost interrupting Firmin, asked, "His Salary?"   
  
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Giry explained, "Monsieur Lefévre paid him twenty francs a month. Perhaps you can afford more. We have Vicomte De Chagny as your parton." I looked at Meg longly, hearing the name of Raoul Chagny. The handsom Vicomte that attendened most preformances.   
  
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André made a face at having to pay a salary to an "opera ghost." Then he looked back at Giry, and asked, "Madame, who is the understudy for this role?"   
  
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Reyer came in. "There is no understudy. This is a new production."   
  
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At this, Meg's eyes lit up. "Christine Daaé could sing it, sir!" Firmin made a face. "The chorus girl?" Meg nodded. "She has been taking lessons from a great teacher!" I looked at her, wide eyed, and shook my head, trying to get her to stop. No one could know. Not even she knew the truth. But she would not stop.   
  
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André asked with interest, "From whom?" He looked at me. I choked over my words as I answered, "I...I don't know sir..." Firmin threw his hands up, "Oh, not you too! Can you beleive it André? A full house - and we have to cancel!"   
  
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Madame Giry stepped in saying, "Let her sing for you Monsieur. She has been well taught."   
  
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My eyes felt heavey. I felt the room spinning. I couldn't belive what had been happening; I was going to sing in front of the whole cast when I wasn't ready. I suddenly felt myself step forward, and almost uncontrolably, I started to sing Carlotta's song.   
  
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That night, as I sang on a real stage, with a real audience for the first time ever. I looked up to our new manager's box, and saw the Vicomte De Chagny. His eyes were full of wonder, as were mine. I sang almost effertly...almost like there was someone singing for me.   
  
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I had done it. I had reached the end of my first night on stage as a saprano. I sang the last notes more estravegent then ever. "But please promise me that sometime, you will think of me!" 


	2. Chapter Two

(This part was hard to do. In the play, this is all a lot of singing, as is the rest of the story. but because I have grown to know this part with the singing so well, it was hard not to rhyme a few things here and there, and word it just right. I am sorry if any other Chapters, including this one, is confusing. It was difficult to write.)   
  
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It was over an hour after the curtains dropped, and dancers still surrounded me, glistening over my performance. I couldn't help but smile as they fawned over the situation itself. Madame Giry appeared out of the shadows. "You did well. He will be pleased..." Horror struck me. She knew...she knew everything... "And you!" she said, pointing to the dancers.   
  
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"You were a disgrace tonight! Here - we rehearse. Now!"   
  
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Each word was emphasized with her cane, as she stamped the ground. The ballet girls walked away to rehearsal, and I was left alone. I stood in the dark for a few minutes, and then advanced to my dressing room. As I walked, I thought about the day, and smiled. I never knew anything like this would happen...but then again...I never thought that....  
  
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"Bravi, bravi! Bravissimi...." I heard his voice somewhere inside of my dressing room. I looked around the outside of the door, startled. Then I heard a shuffle from behind me. I turned quickly, to find Meg standing behind me.   
  
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"I'm sorry Christine...I didn't mean to startle you...just....you sang so beautifully tonight...where did it come from? I only wish I could sing like that. Did you really get a new tutor for singing?"   
  
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I felt I needed to tell Meg what had been happening to me; about my new voice. But would she believe me, or would she think I am insane? I unlocked the door, and she walked in behind me.   
  
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"My father told me that when he was in heaven, he would send me the Angel of Music. You do know the story, don't you?" Meg shook her head. "Well, I always used to dream he would come to me, and sing me to sleep. Now when I sing, I can feel his presents. Like in this room...he is calling me now, very softly."   
  
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Meg looked at my puzzled. "Christine....you must have been dreaming, your talking in riddles. Stories like this can't come true..." I turned my head, and looked down. I knew it, she didn't believe me. I suddenly felt an urge to call to the Angel of Music my father had talked of. but I felt the only way he would come, and believe that I needed his guidance, was by singing.   
  
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"Angel of Music, guide and guardian, grant to me your glory." Meg interrupted me. "Who is this Angel; this Angel of Music?" I stopped, and looked at Meg. I felt like I had lost it all...my sanity, my spirit; everything. I felt myself feeling faint. I looked up at Meg, and said seriously, "He's with me even now; he's all around me." Meg grasped my hands to confort me, but pulled them away quickly. "Your hands are cold!" she said. She looked into my eyes, and saw my sudden fear, and noticed my pale face. "Your face, Christine! It's white! It frightens me!"   
  
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I told her quietly, "Don't be frightened..."   
  
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At this, Madame Giry stamped her cane on the floor, and turned our attention to her. She had just walked into the doorway of the dressing room. "Meg Giry! Are you a dancer, or not? The come and practice!" At this, Meg left my side, and joined the rest of the dancers away from the dressing room. Before Madame Giry turned to leave, she reached her hand out to me, and said, "I was asked to give you this, Ms. Daaé."   
  
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I took the folded letter into my hand, and waited for Madame Giry to leave the room before opening it. I held the letter up to the light, and read aloud, "A scarf...the attic....Little Lotte." I knew who it was from. It was from the Vicomte de Chagny - Rauol.   
  
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(The following is not Christine's point of view. Because Christine doesn't know what they were saying outside of her dressing room. There will be other parts like this in following Chapters.)   
  
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"It was a tour de force! There is really no other way to describe it!" André announced. "And no single refund!" Firmin added. "We have made quite a discovery in Miss Daaé Firmin!" André proclaimed.   
  
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They stopped in front of Christine Daaé's dressing room. "Ah, here we are Monsieur le Vicomte." Firmin announced. Raoul looked up at the room, and turned to the two managers. "Gentlemen...this is a visit I wish to make alone." he said. André and Firmin looked at each other with a grin, and started walking in the other direction. "As you wish, Monsieur!" Firmin called out. They walked away from the dressing room, laughing to themselves, and the last word heard by Raoul was Firmin, saying, "They've appeared to have met before."   
  
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(Back to Christine's point of view.)   
  
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A quiet knock came from my door. I looked up, and wondered who would be still in the opera house at this hour. Suddenly, a familiar face appeared in the doorway. Raoul had let himself in.   
  
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"Christine Daaé! Where is your scarf?" he asked. I cocked my head, puzzled, and asked, "Monsieur?" He gave a slight laugh. "You couldn't have lost it! After all of the trouble it took me to get it? I was just fourteen, and soaked to the skin."   
  
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Remembering the incident that brought us to meeting so many years ago, I laughed, "Because you had to run into the sea to fetch my scarf. Oh Raoul, it is you!" We laughed, and I assumed that he was going through childhood thoughts, as I was. I walked to my dressing table, and sat down, as he started to chant a familiar tune.   
  
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"Little Lotte...let her mind wonder..." he sang. "You remember that too." I said, more seriously. He continued. "Little Lotte thought, 'Am I fonder of dolls, or of goblins, of shoes?" I found it hard to resist joining in with him. "Or of riddles of frocks..." Raoul stopped. I couldn't stop though...I kept bringing back more memories. "Father playing the violin...as we would dance and sing to every song..." Raoul nodded. "As we read to each other dark stories of the north." he said.   
  
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We had drifted away from the 'Little Lotte' story, so I brought it back up, only because it was one of my more fonder memories. It still affected me today..."Know what I love best, Lotte said, is when, I'm a sleep in my bed. And the Angel of Music sings songs in my head..." Raoul smiled, and joined, "The Angel of Music sings songs in my head..."   
  
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I turned away from Raoul, holding back tears, and said, "Father said, 'When I'm in heaven child, I will send the Angel of Music to you.' Well father is dead now, Raoul. And I have been visited by the Angel of Music!" Raoul smiled, "No doubt of it! And now, we'll go to super!" I thought about it, and what had happened earlier, while Meg was in the room. How I almost felt him with me.   
  
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The feeling was back. I tried to shake it off, but couldn't. "No Raoul, the Angel of Music is very strict." I simply replied. He looked at me puzzled. "I shan't keep you up late." He replied. Before he could say more, I replied, "No Raoul." But he wouldn't listen. He said, "You need to get dressed. I must get my hat! Two minutes, Little Lotte!"   
  
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With that, he was on his way. I called out helplessly, "No Raoul!" but he didn't hear. I said to myself, "Things have changed now Raoul..." I went back, and sat at my dressing table once more, combing out my hair, and wondering what to say upon Raoul's arrival.   
  
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I glanced at the lamp beside the table, and say the crystal beads shaking. I watched them sway back and forth, and suddenly heard tremulous music all around the room. I looked everywhere. No one. Suddenly, I heard a voice. It was a new voice, but it seemed like I had heard it since childhood...   
  
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"Insolent boy! This slave of fashion! Basking in my glory! Ignorant fool! This brave young suitor, sharing in my triumph!" it said. I looked around the room more. It sounded like the voice was coming from behind my mirror. I knew now why this voice was familiar. It was my Angel! Like in my dreams! I sang to it, just as it sang to me.   
  
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"Angel I hear you, speak, I listen. Stay by my side, Guide me. Angel my soul was weak forgive me, enter atlast master!"   
  
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The Angel's voice was so soft, and comforting. Even as he spoke normally, it was melodic. His voice grew softer as he said, "You are a flattering child. I have come to teach you to sing like an angel. You act as though we've just been acquainted, but you should know me well. Look at your face inside of the mirror, child."   
  
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I stepped forward, and strained to see past my reflection. Instantly, a tall man appeared. He wore a black cloak, and a hat that covered his face. He started to call in a soft, smooth voice, "I am your Angel of Music...come to me Angel of Music..."   
  
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He offered an outstretched hand, and I accepted it. His grasp was cold, and damp, and I gasped as his grip tightened. He started leading me into the mirror, and without feeling anything brush against me, I stepped inside.   
  
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Before the mirror closed completely, I saw Raoul swing through the dressing room door, frantically, and look around hopelessly. He cried, "Christine! Angel!"  
  
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	3. Chapter Three

(This part is especially hard to write, like a lot of this story, because this is all true song. I am sorry if things are hazy.)  
  
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Fog surrounded our two figures as we walked through the damp cluster of misty clouds. My hand was still firmly grasped by the hand of my Angel, which got me to wondering what to except around the next corner.   
  
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I began to wonder where my Angel was taking me. Although, after time, he trusted me to follow his pace, he would still occasionally turn around quickly to assure I was close behind him.   
  
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Seeing threw the mist of the tunnels was a task, but I was able to make out many other tunnels, leading in hundreds of different directions. I could only guess that my Angel knew his way around this under ground maze well. Rats and other rodents scampered across our path frequently, but I didn't dare stray from the Angel of Music.  
  
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We finally stopped in front of a lake the stretched farther then the eye could see. I wondered where we would go next, seeing that there was no way across. The Angel walked back and forth along the bank, as I sat off of the shore. I watched him search and search, when finally I spotted him dragging a small boat towards where I was resting.   
  
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There were small velvet pillows assorted on the bow, which the Angel pointed to. I climbed in, and sat on the pillows, as the Angel stepped in and pushed off the bank. We started across the glassy lake; The Angel propelled us forward with a wooden gondola stick. I traced my fingers across the water, and watched the ripples of my fingers flow into the boat's.   
  
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The trip across the lake was long, but my thoughts kept me busy as I wondered about everything; my Angel, where we were heading, and how my voice would change more with his teachings. If the new managers at the Opéra Populaire thought my voice was good now, I could only wonder what they would think when I got back from one day with the Angel of Music. But would I tell them about this Angel? The thought came across me many times as we crossed the lake.  
  
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Finally, the shore was in view. I sat up in the boat and strained to see past the misted air. The boat's bottom scrapped the surface, as the Angel stepped out, and pulled me in closer. Like a true gentlemen, he held his hand out, offering to help me out of the boat. I took his offer, shuttering as his musty fingers curled around mine.  
  
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We led me to a large gate that opened, somehow on its own, and brought me in. We had not spoken since we were inside of my dressing room, which made me more cautious. He left my side, and sat on the bench of an old organ of some sort.   
  
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I looked around me; darkness everywhere...the only lighting were candles around the room. Just like on the lake shore, fog covered the ground, making it a task to find my feet. A large sheet covered something to the left of me, and to the right, the Angel sat at his origin's bench, flipping through a hand written booklet of music notes.  
  
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The silence was broken by the origin's enchanting notes, perfectly played by the Angel. As he played, he began to hum in a chanting way. I felt drawn to it, and walked towards him, uncontrolled. His playing came to a sudden halt, as did my swaying pace.  
  
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He slowly stood, and walked towards me. I trembled as he grew closer. He suddenly spoke. "I have brought you here to serve music...to learn to sing more beautifully then you already do. From the moment I first heard you sing, I have needed you with me to sing for my music I write."   
  
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I starred stupidly back at him, trying to translate his exact words. iserve?/i I though. iWhat does he mean to serve?/i He spoke again.   
  
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"This darkness with heighten your senses, and wake your mind to imagination," he said. "Close your eyes, and surrender yourself to your most darkest dreams...gently, music will surround you. Do you feel it?" I stood silently, and felt, like he said, music flowing around me. It was floating across my face, through my hair, and rushing in my veins.  
  
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"Yes," I finally said. "I feel it." I felt a tingling sensation all around me. My bones quivered as I swayed back and forth with the music. Then he came, and wrapped his arms around me. The same sensation was there, but a new feeling entered. A feeling of sympathy. He leaned and whispered to into my ears.  
  
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"Trust me...savor each sensation." I reached up, and braced his face. I felt something placed on it, and as I looked up, I noticed a mask on the right side, covering his eye, nose, and went across his lips. I almost pulled away, but I had just accepted to trust him no matter what. Instead, I stayed were I was, and wondered.  
  
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He whispered in my ear again, "Listen to the music of the night." He started to walk me to the covered object to the side. He removed the tarp, and it reviled a perfectly molded sculpture of me, in a wedding gown inside of, what looked like, a mirror. I reached forward to touch the reflection, when the hand of the sculpture thrust out at me.   
  
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I woke up in the small boat, which was converted into a small bed. I searched the room, to find no one but the Angel at his organ, playing a tune that was unfamiliar to me. I could only guess that I had fainted, because I could not remember anything after the sculpture's arm reaching toward me. I gazed in the mirror's direction, to find the wax-faced impression still bent forward; arm outstretched.  
  
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I looked back at the Angel, when I heard a sweet melodic music playing beside me. It was a small monkey playing the symbols, standing on top of a barrel origin. He was playing to the tune of, "Masquerade," a song popular to costume party goers. In half-trance, I reached to the small object, trying to touch it. Before I could reach it, the sweet music stopped. The trance was broken as I tried to recall what had happened before the sculpture had frightened me, the night before.  
  
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I recalled the mist swirling around me, and the large glassy lake, and a mysterious man in a boat, propelling us forward. Then it all came back to me. That man; the Angel, hidden for some odd reason behind a mask. What was he trying to cover? What was he hiding?   
  
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I silently got out of the bedding, and walked towards the Angel, still lost in his music writings. I stood behind him, watching him play furiously, and then stop to record notes into a note book. On top of the ballad, it read, "Don Juan Triumphant."  
  
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I held my hand up, hesitating, but after a few attempts, snatched the white mask off of the Angel. He sprang up, and rounded on me furiously. I looked into his face to only find horror. His face, if anyone could call it a face, was noting but cartilage, and skin. The part which was covered by the mask was nothing but bone. His eye was far inside of a black whole, and his nose was nothing but two large holes.  
  
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He screamed, and cursed at me, "Damn you! You wanted to see what was under this mask? Well look! Do you see? This is your Angel Christine! Now, you can never be free! Damn you! Curse you!" I sat on the floor, covering my eyes, and cried. I cried from fear, surprise, and above all, sympathy.   
  
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I sadly looked at the mask which I held in my hand, and handed it to him slowly. I looked into his eyes, and braved the horror that set inside of me. He looked at the mask, then me, and grabbed it greedily. After adjusting it correctly on his face, he stood and offered me his hand. He noticed I refused to take his offer, and said,   
  
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"Come...we must return. Those ifools/i who run my theatre will be missing you."   
  
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At that, we were back in the boat, and silently returning to my dressing room. With the scent of fear around me, I remained silent the rest of the trip. 


	4. Chapter Four

(The following chapter will not be in Christine's point of view. The first small section will be Meg Giry, and the second part will be the author (me) Thanks for the understanding. Also, I understand that a few reviewers were upset with my past chapter (Ch. 3) and on how the Phantom appeared to be greedy. I did not intend for him to appear this way. Also it has come to my attention, that people are thinking I am trying to make Christine seem dumb for not seeing that the Phantom is not an angel, but a man. You will see, that she has her doubts, but still wants to hold the feeling that Erik IS an angel. I am not sure which chapter it will be, however. I hope my perspective on this story will be cleared up for those that had trouble catching with it!)  
  
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A small circle of dancers sat around Joseph Buquet, as he told his stories of the Opera Ghost, and how he had seen him. He showed us how to ward off the ghost, and demonstrated, as we clapped with horror and delight.   
  
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Holding up his index finger, he warned us, "You must be always on your guard, or he'll catch you with his magical lasso." He demonstrated this with an old rope. At that moment, a trap door in the back of the stage opened, and a dark figure wearing a cloak emerged out of the darkness, with something (or someone) under his cloak.  
  
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It was him: The Phantom of the Opera! I stood, screaming, as I ran to the corner to hide, followed by a trail of ballet dancers. Horror filled Buquet's eyes as we ran for cover. Out of the shadows, my mother appeared, and scolded Buquet.  
  
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"Madame Giry!" Buquet cried, shuddering. "Joseph Buquet!" she said, "Hold you tongue. He will burn you with the heat of his eyes!"  
  
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-  
  
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(Authors narration)  
  
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Papers filled the desks of the two managers, as they sorted their mail. Firmin's desk, which was to the left, portrayed a mess of letters, documents, and odd sketchings, while André's, to the right, was only cluttered with letters.  
  
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Firmin held up a news paper article to the light, and searched it's headline with a magnifine glass. "Mystery after Gala night. Mystery of Soprano's flight, we suspect foul play." He read aloud to André.   
  
p  
  
"First Carlotta, now Christine," he announced. André tore his concentration off of his paper work, and cried to Firmin. "Damnable! Our audience will walk out on our shows at this rate!" Firmin calmly explained, "It's publicity André! People live to hear stories like this."  
  
p  
  
André shook his head, and pointed out, "but we have no cast!" Firmin quickly replied, "but André, have you read this letter?" Firmin holds up a small envelope up. He looks at André desk, and notices the same red ink, and sloppy hand writing addressed to André. "Oh..." he said, "It seems you've got one too..."   
  
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André opened the envelope, and carefully read the letter aloud: "Dear André, what a charming gala! Christine enjoyed a great success! We were hardly bereft when Carlotta left. Otherwise, the chorus was enchancing, but the dancing was a lamentable mess."   
  
p  
  
André stopped and starred at Firmin, as he read his note aloud as well: "Firmin, just a brief reminder. My salary has not been paid. Please send it addressed to the Opera Ghost. Remember, no one likes a debtor, so it is better if these orders are obeyed."  
  
p  
  
André was appalled at having such letters sent to them. He could only imagine that someone clearly insane was behind the whole scam. Firmin grabbed André's note, and examined it's signature at the bottom. With an odd expression written on his face, he pointed out,  
  
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"Why, these are both signed O.G...who on earth do we know with the initials O.G?" André stared off in deep thought, and quickly came to a conclusion. "Opera Ghost!" "This really is not amusing" Firmin said. André nodded, pointing out how their position was abused by this act of intolerance.  
  
p  
  
The door swung open, as Raoul Vicomte de Chagny entered the room, crying, "Where is she!?" André asked quite quickly, "You mean Carlotta?" Raoul answered, "No, I mean Christine Daaé; where is she?" Firmin answered puzzled, "How should we know Monsieur?" Raoul became irritated with the managers. He held up a letter addressed to him in sloppy red ink. "Well, I take it that you sent me this note."   
  
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André answered, "Of course not! Don't look at us!" Raoul looked back stupidly at the managers. "She's not with you then?" he asked. Firmin replied, "No she is not monsieur. We have not seen her since last night's performance!" "Well if you didn't write this letter, then who did?" Raoul demanded.  
  
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Firmin grabbed the note out of Raoul's hands, and read it aloud, "Do not fear for Miss Daaé. The Angel of Music has her under his wing. Make no appempt to see her again." All three men stood starring at each other, trying to find some sort of answer to these strange series of notes.  
  
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The door swung open again, as Carlotta stormed into the room. "Where is he!? Where is the Vicomte de Chagny?" Raoul answered irritatedly, "What is it now Signora...?" Carlotta brushed herself up in an angry manner, and explained, "I have a letter which you sent me, that displeased me!" Raoul made a face as Firmin asked him, "and did you send Signora Carlotta this note which she speaks of?"  
  
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"Of course not! What exactly does this letter say Signora?" he asked. Raoul took the letter, and read it aloud. "Your days at the Opera Populaire are over. Christine Daaé will sing in your place tonight. If you attempt to take her place, a great misfortune should come upon you!"  
  
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Both managers looked at each other, and shrugged their shoulders. So many notes in one evening, and all of them revolved around Christine. It was almost as though from the day they arrived at the opera house, that all they ever heard was the name of Christine Daaé.   
  
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The door slowly opened, as Meg and Madame Giry entered the room. Madame Giry announced, "Christine Daaé has returned. I thought it would be best if I sent her home." Meg, still frightened from seeing Christine just less then thirty minutes ago, added, "She needed rest."  
  
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Raoul, letting a little of the excitement of not knowing where she was, asked, "May I please see her?" Giry answered quickly, "No monsieur, she will see no one at this moment." At this, she pulled an unaddressed envelope out of her black dress, and carefully unfolded the note. After announcing that she had a letter for the managers, she started to read out loud;  
  
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"Christine Daaé has returned to you, and I am hoping her career will progress. In the next production shown at the Opera Populaire, 'Il Muto,' you will cast Carlotta as the pageboy, and have Miss Daaé play the role of countess. The role which Miss Daaé will play calls for charm and appeal - the role of the pageboy is silent, which makes my casting perfect for Carlotta, seeing as though she cannot sing. I remain gentlemen, your obedient servant, O.G. "  
  
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Carlotta rounded furiously, "This is all a ploy to help Christine! And I know who did this! The Vicomte - her lover!" Raoul, stressed enough about the whole incident, perked up. "Indeed! Can you believe this? I had nothing to do with this, Signora!" He cried. Ignoring Raoul, Carlotta because crying out words in Spanish. "O traditori! O mentitori!"   
  
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The two managers, trying to calm Carlotta's anger, cooned her with exactly she wanted to hear. "Signora, you are our star! We will not take orders from this O.G..." "This man is mad, you'll always be our star!" Finally, Firmin announced, "Miss Daaé will be playing the silent role of the pageboy, and Carlotta will be playing the Countess!"   
  
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As Firmin and André only tried to retain the order of Signora Carlotta, Raoul, Giry, and Meg thought aloud about Christine.   
  
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Meg - "I must see her, What new suprises are in store for us?"  
  
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Giry - "Do not scorn O.G.'s words! He knows everything that goes on in this opera house!"  
  
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Raoul - "Why did Christine leave me...I must see her...Where could she have gone?"  
  
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As the managers almost had Carlotta where they wanted her, they began to enchant her with complements, and encouragement. "Your public needs you! Your crowd adores you! Enchant us once again!" they cooned. But once again, Giry, Raoul, and Meg were abstracted, thinking about Christine, and this strange series of letters.  
  
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Raoul - "Christine spoke on an Angel...Is this, 'O.G.' her Angel of music? Christine must be protected!"  
  
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Giry - "She has heard the voice of the Angel of Music. Do not ignore his orders! If his demands are rejected, who knows what will happen to us all!"  
  
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Meg - "Is this ghost an Angel of madman? Voice of hell, or of heaven? Bliss or Damnation? Sureley he'll strike back...If his threats and demands are rejected..."  
  
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Carlotta has finally agreed to stay at the opera house. Firmin and André's false promises saved her career; or atleast what was left of it. Carlotta would play the role of the Countess, and Christine was to play the pageboy: the part with no lines.   
  
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Dark in a corner, however...the Opera Ghost overheard it all. Firmin and André pestering Carlotta to stay, their ignorance to his letters, Giry and Meg... But most of all, he was curious of the Vicomte's strange attraction to Christine. To the ghost, there was only one thing he could say; Raoul was falling in love with Christine.  
  
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To himself, the Opera Ghost said, "So...it is to be war between us. If my demands are not met, a disaster beyond all of their imaginations will occur!" 


	5. Cahpter Five

(This is in Christine's narration again. This will be one of the short chapters.)  
  
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I was in costume, and ready to perform. Everyone made it almost seem wrong for me to be playing the part of the pageboy. Although I was not able to sing as the pageboy, I could easily understand it was because Carlotta had returned.   
  
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As my que was called, the curtin in which I was hidden behind was drawn, and I walked to my mark, and stood there silently. Carlotta resited her lines with her normal energy. I took a moment to glance at the full opera house. In the left box, André and Firmin sat nodding to someone across the way.   
  
p  
  
It was Raoul, in Box 5. It was strange to see someone inside of Box 5 because of the Ghost Story behind it. Box 5 was ment for the Opera Ghost, and the Opera Ghost only. Raoul acknowledged the managers in Box 2, and went on to watching. I quickly turned my attention back to Carlotta, who was still singing her lines.  
  
p  
  
Finally, I was required to act a little. "Serafimo, away with this pretence. You cannot speak, but kiss me in my husband's absence." The skirt I was wearing was torn off, and underneath reveled men's pants. The play was about a woman who is cheating on her husband, who is always leaving for business, with another man. I was the 'man' whom the woman was cheating with. The play went on:  
  
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"Poor fool he makes me laugh, hahahahaha! Time I tried to get a better half!" The chorus chimed in, singing, "Poor fool, he doesn't know, hohohohoho! If he knew the truth he'd never, ever go!" The musician pit came to a halt as laughter was heard throughout the entire opera house.   
  
p  
  
"Did I not instruct that Box 5 was to be kept empty!?" The voice finally yelled after it's insane laughing. Meg, who played a gossiping girl in the play, looked up terrified. "He's here: The Phantom of the Opera!" I looked about Meg frightenedly. I knew that voice...it was the man who took me to his dark lair at the underground lake...my Angel.   
  
p  
  
"It's him...I know it...it's him..." I said abstractedly. "Your part is silent, little toad!" Carlotta hissed.  
  
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It couldn't be...I couldn't believe it. Holding the thought that the man who took me on that dark journey the other night, was my Angel, kept me believing I could sing better...and that the story of Little Lotte, and her Angel of Music was true.   
  
p  
  
but I knew now that it was all a lie. This man was only a fake! I had given myself to him for nothing. but then that voice...his wonderful melodic voice...and that sweet, kind, gentle passion he showed me. I had never been treated that way before. but that face...oh the face of him was so horrible...but this voice...the voice of the Opera Ghost...could it really be the same voice as the man I thought was an angel?  
  
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"A toad Madame? Perhaps it is you who is the toad!" It called. It was him...my angel was the Phantom of the Opera.  
  
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Carlotta brushed his words off of her back quickly, and began to repeat her last lines. "Serafimo, away with this petence! You cannot speak, but kiss me in my 'croak'!" Carlotta held her throat in horror as she let out the sound of a frog, instead of her song. The Ghost's laughter surrounded the opera house. Carlotta ignored it, and started up again.  
  
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"Poor fool he makes me laugh, hahahahaha! 'croak' 'croak' 'croak' 'croak!'" Each time she tried to sing, she let out a horrible croaking sound. I watched in horror, as Carlotta croaked, the managers dashed onto the stage, and Raoul had left Box 5. I held my head, trying to block out the Phantom's laughing that surrounded me entirely. The audience could not tell what was happening.   
  
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"Non posso piu...I cannot...I can't go on!" Carlotta shouted. She whept as she was led off the stage by the stagehands.   
  
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Firmin stood infront of the audience, and announced, "Ladies and Gentlemen...the performance will continue in ten minutes, when the role of the countess will be sung by Miss Christine Daaé. In the mean time, we will watch the ballet from Act Three of tonight's performance."  
  
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The music began, as I was rushed backstage to change. I was in the black box, the small dresser right off of the stage, for a quick change. I heard the ballet music quicken as I slipped the countesses shoes on. Just before my second shoe was applied, I heard a scream from one of the dancers. It was Meg.   
  
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I ran out of the Black Box, and onto the stage. All eyes were fixed on something hanging above the stage. I fixed my glance to see Joseph Buquet hanging above the stage, dead. Everyone ran onstage including Raoul.   
  
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I called to him, "Raoul, Raoul!" "Christine!" he called, "Come with me!" I shook my head, "No to the roof! We'll be safe there."  
  
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We ran to the top of the Opera House, away from the screams and cries of the audience, and dancers. Before we had completely lost the sounds of the Opera House, we heard Firmin calling to the audience, in attempt to calm them:  
  
p   
  
"Ladies and Gentle please, remain in your seats! Do not panic, it was only an accident! Simply and accident! 


End file.
